<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Beneath the shooting stars (close your eyes and make a wish) by ChocoNut</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683312">Beneath the shooting stars (close your eyes and make a wish)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut'>ChocoNut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of love (Season 3/4) [39]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, From Harrenhal to King's Landing, Jaime tries to flirt, Season 3, Shooting Stars, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:28:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the last night of their road trip when Brienne is unable to sleep, Jaime decides to have a little chat with her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tales of love (Season 3/4) [39]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beneath the shooting stars (close your eyes and make a wish)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“A gold dragon for your thoughts, my lady.”</p><p>She stiffens when Jaime approaches her, but thankfully makes no attempt to flee into the tent or shrink away from his company when he sits down beside her.</p><p>He decides to pose the same question differently. “Is something bothering you?” </p><p>The wench doesn’t answer, just stares into the fire. </p><p>“My lady—”</p><p>“There’s just too much.” Those eyes refuse to budge from the flames swaying in them.</p><p>He has to agree. What began as a prisoner exchange has now turned into something else, altogether. “You’re mourning Catelyn Stark. I’m sorry it had to end like this, that it was my family who—”</p><p>“It’s not just that,” Brienne cuts him evasively. He knows she doesn’t hold him responsible, doesn’t bear a grudge against him for the unfortunate massacre, but there’s still this huge chasm between them, and despite having gone through so much together, he can sense she’s not yet ready to bridge this gap. “It’s the future, about what lies in store for Sansa and Arya.”</p><p>Apprehension, doubt, dejection—there’s so much in that voice, in those eyes, and Jaime can’t help the urge to do something to lighten her burden. More importantly, there’s this new <em> something </em>he’s grown to feel for her, the niggling voice inside his head pushing him to act on it.</p><p>“I can’t find my peace either,” he admits, dragging himself a little closer. “All I can do is—” his attention is captured by a sudden streak of light in the moonlit sky “—there, look—” he points upwards “—a falling star.”</p><p>When she follows his lead, instead of admiring the spectacle he finds himself looking at her. “Close your eyes quickly and make a wish.” </p><p>She looks at him incredulously.</p><p>He blinks his eyes shut, and his heart fervently leaps up with the one thing he truly wants. “You need to be quick about it,” he insists, and when she murmurs an assent, he cheats, cracking open an eyelid to steal a furtive glance at her, taking in the momentary peace that spreads across her face, the lips that move in a silent prayer. “They say, if you have a good heart, your pleas will be heard.”</p><p>“You don’t come across as someone who believes in these things, Ser Jaime,” she says, when the moment has passed.</p><p>“There’s so much you don’t know about me, wench.” Noticing that she’s warming up to this unusual little chat, he allows himself a smile. “I could sit here with you,” he offers, “help you pass the night, regale you with my skills—if you want.”</p><p>A smile turns up to curl the corners of her mouth. “Your skills?”</p><p>“Of course,” he goes on, encouraged by her reluctant openness. “Swordplay isn’t the only thing a man can boast of, Brienne.”</p><p>Her brows go up in mild amusement and she sits up, arms crossed to her chest, gaze sharpening in intrigue. “What are these <em> skills </em>you claim to possess, ser?”</p><p>“Reading one’s mind by studying their eyes,” he says, jumping at an excuse to embark on a delightful journey through the depths of them.</p><p>The smile is more prominent now. “Really?”</p><p>“You don’t believe me? Now let’s see—” he shifts himself so that he’s face to face with her “—you don’t despise me, my lady,” he starts, his mind racing with everything he wants to say to her.</p><p>“That was too easy. You don’t need to dive into my eyes to make that out,” she lightly admits, fingertips scraping the rock next to her. “Besides, we will be companions for no more than this night. So what I think about you is not going to matter anymore. ”</p><p><em> It does. It did. It always will. </em>“Why would you say that?”</p><p>The smile wanes. Her answer, though, she holds to herself.</p><p>“While you act indifferent and evade questions, you’ve begun to enjoy my company,” he tries again, hoping he’s not too far from the truth.</p><p>Maybe he is, because there’s a certain pondering he can see in her eyes, as if she’s challenging herself with the verity of his claim. “Our long journey is to come to an end tomorrow,” she shies away again, choosing not to lock horns with him. “And with it, our association.”</p><p>
  <em> I hope it doesn’t. I wish— </em>
</p><p>Diverted by a movement in the sky, he looks up again to spot another star plummeting down into the dark, and before it fades into nothing, he shuts his eyes for a heart-stopping couple of seconds, wishing, coaxing whatever power that resided above them to listen to pay heed to him for once.</p><p>“You’re a tough warrior, but deep down you’re just like any other woman,” he keeps it on, renewed with a new burst of unknown encouragement. “Soft and feminine—”</p><p>“I’m no lady,” she barks, in denial, refusing to see what his eyes bear for her. “I—” She holds back, then demands, “How long are we going to keep this on?” </p><p>For a moment, he’s worried of ending up a nuisance, but deep down in the depth of the vivid blue, he notices something—a little spark that tells him to not to stop. “You keep saying that you want me to shut up, but deep down you really don’t,” he picks up again, voicing what he’s found, tossing her a gentle smile he thinks will ease away her reticence. “See, I’m good,” he murmurs, when she doesn’t refute.</p><p>She lowers her lashes, but only for an instant, then looks up at him again. Her arms are back to her sides, her fingers idly caressing a pebble beside her as she breaks into a smile to match his. “You’re simply flattering yourself, Ser jaime.”</p><p>“You say so, but deep down you think differently. Also, there’s something else—” he tilts his face closer “—an ache, some sort of pining—” He pauses to take in a gulpful of air, hoping all the shooting stars get together to assist him tonight. “You’re no longer in love with Renly.” He watches her carefully, waiting with bated breath, taking in everything from the minutest tremor in her lip to the tightening of her jaw. “It’s someone else, Brienne.”</p><p>This is a giant leap, but then, her shining eyes and her quivering chin tell him he’s on the right path. “You want him,” he reads on emphatically, what he can see, what he wishes to find, “yet you refrain from yielding to that want because you assume you can never have him.”</p><p>A blink, then another, and a loose fumbling of the stone she’s playing with—that’s all he gets.</p><p>Jaime knows he’s gone too far, but he doesn’t regret his bluntness, not if it’ll take him all the way across the unspoken valley between them. But then, he understands he cannot push too hard either. He can’t afford to have her withdraw into a shell. “You know I’m right, but we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”</p><p>When he lets go, her expression clears. He can feel the ease in the air around her. For a few restless seconds, he’s directionless, twiddling his thumb, searching his head for the next best excuse to keep her here.</p><p>“I can read one’s future, wench,” he finally declares, rather pleased with the quick plan his brain has woven with when she looks up at him with interest. “Give me your hand—” Without waiting for a consent, he takes it in his and begins examining the lines faintly visible in the pale fire light.</p><p>“You can tell what life has in store for me by just studying these lines?” Again there is the same unmistakable hint of disbelief.</p><p>“Here—” letting her hand rest on his thigh, he traces a forefinger along a prominent line that runs down the length of her palm “—a long life, you’re blessed with, wench.”</p><p>“Thanks to <em> you </em> and not what the fates have drawn on my hand,” she points out, her voice soft. “These lines would’ve faded into the dirt had you not come back for me, Ser Jaime.”</p><p>He takes a moment, his eyes meeting hers, and he can sense something passing between them. But it’s gone as soon as she returns to the hand he’s holding. Clearing his throat, he continues, “And this, here—” he points to another line with a couple of breaks in its length “—is your heart line, again, remarkably healthy and prominent—”</p><p>Her dry laugh fills the air as she dismisses him with a wry, “Of course, <em> love </em> has been very cooperative with me all my life.”</p><p>“Your life isn’t over yet, wench.”</p><p>“It isn’t,” she attacks, the steely edge returning to her voice, “but love has never been on my side. You know nothing—”</p><p>“Who is to say the future won’t be different?” He can sense some of his frustration beginning to pour into his voice. “Look at this—” he runs a finger-trail down what he’s showing her “—a few breaks, then it’s steady as hell, right till the end of your life—” he braces himself to confide “—which means—”</p><p>“It means nothing.”</p><p>“There’s someone out there, someone who cares for you,” he frantically admits, pressing a finger into her palm. “He wants you, Brienne, desires you and—”</p><p>“That’s impossible,” she suddenly snaps, a hint of pain in her tone. “Enough of this, Ser Jaime. This is not a matter to be trivialized with—”</p><p>“You’ll meet him soon, wench,” he hurriedly comes to the point, worried she might pull her hand away and bolt off into the tent. “He will be with you tonight, before this fire dies down to the last of its embers. Tonight—”</p><p>“How can you say so?” She pulls away her hand. “Because it’s apparently <em> written </em> in some streaks I was born with?”  </p><p>“Because <em> I’m </em> here right now, Brienne!” He takes his time to try and breathe properly, but his body refuses to calm down, a tug at his heart nudging him to go on. “With you, tonight—” he takes her hand again “—and the fire hasn’t died away yet, has it?” </p><p>Silence rings louder than anything else, and her eyes go from disbelief to astonishment to a delightful bashfulness. </p><p>“But then—” he can see her delve into the last few minutes “—the palm reading—”</p><p>“I know nothing of it,” he admits, caressing her palm with his thumb. “I don’t even believe in it.”</p><p>“The mind reading you did with my eyes—”</p><p>“Hope, my lady.” He edges towards her, narrowing the gap between them until he can breathe her air, feel her senses come to life. “Hope and a deep desire to find what I wanted to see.”</p><p>“The shooting star,” she whispers, and he can make out her pulse quickening, “the wish—”</p><p>“Well—” he gets even closer, lips just shy of hers “—I never did believe in that, either, but it looks like I might have to from now on. Because—” he places a gentle kiss on her mouth, then lingers there, soaking in every bit of her touch “—my wish just happened to come true, Brienne.”</p><p>“So did mine,” she says with a smile, and with a soft hand to his heart, she closes her eyes and melts into him.</p><p>With a silent thanks to the stars above, Jaime deepens the kiss, and when he begins to lose himself in her, he knows he’s crossed safely to her side of the valley at last.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tooth rotting fluff, hope you enjoyed it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>